


bare your soul to me

by Rena



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hate Sex, Missing Scene, Post-Eadu, Unsafe Sex, expect not really because there's feelings, unhealthy coping mechanisms all around, which we'll ignore because they're in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9172228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rena/pseuds/Rena
Summary: Cassian finds her crouched in the engine compartment of the Imperial cargo shuttle, knees drawn to her chest, still shaking from the cold and Eadu’s heavy rain and the rage running through her.





	

 

Cassian finds her crouched in the engine compartment of the Imperial cargo shuttle, knees drawn to her chest, still shaking from the cold and Eadu’s heavy rain and the rage running through her. It spikes through her again now, a snarl rising in her throat and twisting her features as she faces her traitor, her father’s _killer,_  no matter how much he refuses to acknowledge the part he had in his death.

She briefly entertains the thought of jumping at him, throwing him against the wall, scratching at him until the blood he spilt, her father’s blood, shows on his face. Punching him until he crumbles in her arms, broken and small like Galen had been.

She stays where she is.

She hadn’t expected him to seek her out, had expected him to hide from her and her rightful anger, twist and duck away from the accusations the way he did when she confronted him. Why is he here? She searches for an answer in his face, his body, but there’s nothing. He’s wearing his spy face as he steps into the small space and closes the sliding doors behind him, and she can’t read him at all.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t seem inclined to resume their fight. The moment stretches and the silence grates on her, sets her on edge, makes her fingers twitch with the feral need to tear into him. She doesn’t care that K-2SO told her, as she walked off, that Cassian had tried to call off the rebel attack. The droid is far too eager to defend his master, and even if it’s true, it’s not enough to cancel out his betrayal. She wants him to give her an opening to refuel her anger.  

She wants to hurt him.

She wants to go back to the time before Eadu, when she thought she could trust him, maybe, and that thought confuses her more than anything.

“Come to gloat?” she spits, vicious and petty. “To tell me he deserved it?”

Cassian’s voice is calm and level when he answers. “You know that’s not why I’m here.”

“Are you going to tell me more lies, then? Try and defend yourself?”

He shakes his head. “No,” he says, and hesitates and goes on, haltingly, “I am not the person who can give you comfort.”

Jyn almost laughs out loud at the thought. There isn’t a person on this ship, not a person in the galaxy anymore, that she’d accept comfort from, if they even cared enough to offer. If he apologises, she will definitely punch him, or try and find something sharp to drive through his heart.

“Why are you here?”

He doesn’t say anything, and she realises he’s waiting. Waiting for her to unleash her anger, to attack him with words or fists.

She snorts. “Really?” she asks. “You are going to be the martyr now?”

“You’re in shock, and looking for somewhere to put it,” he repeats his own words from earlier, but now it’s not used as a deflection. He just sounds tired. “If you don’t let it out…” He shakes his head again. “It will hurt you. It will hurt all of us. We need you have your wits together when you testify before the council.”

Slowly, Jyn gets to her feet. “And if you’re not there to testify? Will that not hurt your precious rebellion?” _Will it not hurt me_ , she doesn’t add, _will I not face retribution for hurting you?_ It’s not something she particularly cares about anymore. What would it matter if they threw her in jail, if they killed her? All the family she ever had lost in one day. She didn’t think that would bother her, before. It was easy to live without them.

Now, she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do next. Where to go, or why.

She takes a step towards him, raises her fists. Testing the waters. He doesn’t back away - not that there’s really anywhere for him to go -, doesn’t flinch. Not when she punches him in the ribs, hard. Not when she curls her fingers around the grip of the blaster, just to see what he’ll do. He doesn’t react at all. Maybe he sees it on her face that she couldn’t go through with it anyway.

She wants him to hurt, but she’s not like him. She’s not a killer.

She shoves at him and he stumbles backwards, his back hitting the metal door with a low thud, and a moment later they’re kissing, hard and bruising. It’s more teeth than anything, and it feels like punishment, though whether she’s trying to punish him or herself, she couldn’t say.

There’s a sense of desperation in the way he kisses her back, and Jyn thinks that maybe it’s not about her at all. Maybe Cassian, too, feels the need to punish himself. Or maybe she’s just grasping at straws, searching for common ground, for a bond between them that just isn’t there.

 _Stupid girl_ , she berates herself _, thinking you could trust him. Thinking you could belong somewhere, someday._

She buries her fists in his shirt, presses impossibly closer, feels the heat radiating off his body, the way it warms her to the core. His hand on her cheek, his fingertips calloused from carrying blasters, matching the marks on her own. When she slides her hands under his clothes, travelling up his back, she finds that they match there, too; a mess of scar tissue, burns from blaster wounds and healed over cuts of vibroblades, but still, there are soft patches in between.

He feels familiar. He feels like they could fit, and the thought makes her nauseous, so she throws him to the floor and climbs into his lap, making quick work of his fatigues. When she takes him into her hand, it’s too dry and too rough, her grip too tight not to border on the wrong side of painful. She watches him as she jerks him off, the way he writhes beneath her, the way his mouth twists with the harsh panting breaths escaping him, the way he pushes his hips up to meet her despite the cruelty of it, and tries to find satisfaction in it.

She doesn’t.

She lets go of him abruptly, shifting her legs to get up and leave, but his hands clamp down on her hips, holding her in place. Jyn meets his gaze. There’s a burning need in his eyes that she can’t ignore, can’t deny. She doesn’t stop him from removing her holster, aids him in undoing her trousers when she finds that his hands are shaking.

Cassian groans when she grinds her hips down against his erection, when she lowers herself onto him, and that, she finds, she can revel in. The pace she sets is quick and unforgiving and she closes her eyes, tries to focus on the physicality of it rather than who she’s with. It lets her forget the voice in the back of her head screaming at her, wondering what the hell she’s doing, if only for a moment.

“Jyn,” he rasps, his fingers curling over hers, tugging gently, “look at me.”

And she doesn’t want to, she _doesn’t want to_ , but she can’t deny him that, either. She looks at him, and for the first time, she sees everything. For the first time, he sheds the mask and lets her see, all the ugly, sharp edges of him, the mangled mess of a man that he is, all his guilt and shame and self-loathing laid bare, the regrets and hopes and dying dreams, the loneliness and the scars. The gentleness that she can still detect underneath.

She sees so much of herself reflected on his face that it scares her. It makes her want to scream at him, _I can’t grant you forgiveness_ and _how dare you think this could be your penance_ , but she’s keenly aware that he, probably more than anyone, knows it’s not that simple.

She wonders briefly who the last person was he allowed to see him this way, if there ever was someone once he stopped being a child. If this is his way of levelling the playing field, after seeing her at Jedha, at Eadu. If he wants her to exploit the weaknesses he’s shown her, wants her to use it against him, to drive a vibroblade through his heart. If he hates himself that much.

If she could ever hate him that much.

She wants to tell him to stop, that she doesn’t want to see him like this, that he can’t put this burden on her, that it’s not fair. But the words get stuck in her throat, and she doesn’t tear her eyes away from his, just puts a hand on his chest to feel the wild beat of his heart and keeps riding him, taking what her body needs until she shudders to completion. He’s not far behind, and it feels like every time she turned around on Jedha to find him only a few steps behind her, watching her back, moving seamlessly into the open spaces she left as they fought against ‘troopers.

Jyn scoffs inwardly, faintly disgusted with herself, and moves off him quickly. By the time she’s pulled her clothes back into place and caught her breath, his calm mask is back. She can’t stand the neutral way he looks at her.

She leaves without saying a word.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Whoops, I am Rebelcaptain trash now.


End file.
